Parental Affection
by Amidarcy
Summary: What would Darcy have been like if his parents had never passed away? After all, they gave him good principles; what if they were there to help him follow them? First chapter now up! Regency style and really OCC!
1. AN information and summary

Some info on this fanfic... please read it because the story will be pretty confusing and REALLY OCC if you don't. Some of the stuff is explained in the first chapter but in a very roundabout way, so it's probably easier just to read this author's noteDisclaimer: I'm obviously not Jane Austen

* * *

Darcy's parents are still alive and well; they have a very healthy relationship with their son and daughter.

Darcy's parents are totally in love, forming the model relationship for their kids to want

The Darcy's could not care less about social status, so they are totally ok with Lizzy

Darcy in this story is based on one of my friend's, who's character completely altered after the death his own parents. I have loosely based his character on what he used to be.

Georgie is similar to how she is in the book, with a very shy nature, but Darcy is actually a brother to her, not a father figure

Georgie is 12 years old

Wickham was discovered forcing himself onto one of the maids at Pemberley, and was forced by George Darcy (Fitzwilliam Darcy's dad) and his own father (who is now dead) to go to America.

Bingley's father was a business partner of George Darcy, so when Bingley's father died, George Darcy allowed Bingley to stay with them and helped him get accustomed with... everything

Because Darcy had just lost Wickham, he and Bingley quickly became friends

Both Darcy and Bingley are 22 years old and have a very close friendship; it's rather OCC

Mrs Bennet is less obviously mercenary, and is somewhat intelligent

Mr Bennet is a bit more careful with Lydia and Kitty; they are less immature

I am writing Regency style, but there may be some factual errors, so feel free to leave any comments in reviews so that when I revise the chapters, I can edit them slightly :)


	2. Chapter 1

"Charles!" Darcy exclaimed, jumping down the front steps of Pemberley. The two friends embraced in what was considered a "very manly" hug before Darcy's mother also embraced "Charlie". George Darcy fondly shook the young man's hand.

"Hello Mrs Darcy, Mr Darcy." Charles Bingley said to his best friend's parents, happy to see them all again. "And how's my favourite Georgie!" He added, picking a twelve-year-old Georgiana up and twirling her around as she giggled. "I do hope you'll never be too old for our twirl!" The girl laughed with him as he set her down, agreeing instantly. The Darcys thoroughly loved Charles Bingley; he was everything jovial and open. And whilst the Darcys were also similar with people whom they were well acquainted with, both Fitzwilliam and Georgiana were extremely shy by nature, and Charles Bingley's influence was perfect for both Darcy children.

After all, George Darcy had practically adopted a nineteen year old Charles Bingley when his father passed away. He felt that guiding the son of his business partner was the least he could do. And when Darcy and Bingley became fast friends, George Darcy could hardly regret his actions. For his own Fitzwilliam had painfully felt the loss of his previous best friend George Wickham only two years before. When George Darcy had discovered the scandalous activities of his steward's son, he was immediately sent off to America, with enough money to set up a farm and little else. Of course, George Darcy had someone keeping constant checks on Wickham, for who could trust a man that was willing to pursue such scandalous activities in the house of his father's master?

* * *

Charles Bingley bounced down on the bed; so much better than the one at the Hurst's Townhouse. He looked around at the room; nothing had changed since he had left two months ago. He glanced at his best friend. Fitzwilliam was sitting at the writing desk, watching his friend bounce on the bed, feeling slightly concerned.

"Charles, what exactly are you doing?"

"I have missed this bed; The one at Mr Hurst's house hurts my back, Will. I doubt he even knows what a real bed should feel like!" Fitzwilliam laughed.

"You should've come back earlier! Georgie was devastated that you missed her birthday, you ought to make it up to her."

"Oh! I almost forgot, I brought her some new sheet music!" And then Bingley took off sprinting down the hallway with the sheets, leaving Fitzwilliam to follow. Their typical race through the corridors and Pemberley began, and Fitzwilliam quickly gained on Charles.

However, both boys, for that was how they were acting, came to a rather abrupt stop, as Fitzwilliam slammed head-on into his father's chest. George Darcy regarded his child with amusement as Charles crashed against Fitzwilliam's back, causing both of them to wince in pain.

"Hello boys, I was just coming to look for you."

"Father! You disrupted our race!" Fitzwilliam exclaimed.

"You may continue your race outside, Will. The corridors of Pemberley are not your personal running grounds, and if you are ever to become the master of Pemberley, you would do well to remember that." George Darcy reprimanded his son. But of course, Fitzwilliam Darcy paid little attention to his father's words, looking up at his father with the Fitzwilliam blue eyes... How could George Darcy ever reprimand those eyes that were so alike to his own wife's? "Boys, I have some news for you." That caught their attention, and they both looked at each other in anticipation.

"I have leased another country estate, in Hertfordshire, called Netherfield Park. It is very close to London, a perfect holiday home for use during Georgie's upcoming season in Town." Fitzwilliam and Charles shrugged, preparing to continue their race, before they were stopped once more. "Fitzwilliam! Charles! I am giving the both of you a chance to test your skills, on a place that will not give us any major loss, should you have trouble running an estate. You have been taught how to run an estate for a long time now, Will. Charles has only had such guidance for a few years. You must show him how to run an estate, with care and courtesy for everyone, even servants and tenants." Fitzwilliam looked at his father's serious expression, and nodded. He would never let his father down. He and Charles would make Netherfield Park the most profitable estate in all of England! Well, except for Pemberley, of course.

"Father, may we take Mrs Reynolds?" Fitzwilliam asked. His father simply raised his eyebrows, which was all the answer he needed. Charles sniggered.

"Mr Darcy, have you met my sister recently?" He asked. George Darcy scratched at his chin.

"No, I do not believe I have had the pleasure. Not for a few years, in fact."

"Mr Darcy, she will not respect any servants. She has changed a lot." Fitzwilliam made a face, thinking of Miss Bingley.

"Father, Charles is right. Miss Bingley tries to follow me, everywhere!" George Darcy looked between his son's dismayed look and the anguish on Charles' face. Perhaps it would not be ideal to have Miss Bingley at Netherfield Park.

"Charles, your sister may come and stay here, at Pemberley. I am sure Anne can help straighten her out." Fitzwilliam and Charles grinned at each other, not able to believe their luck. They would run an estate; they could do whatever they liked, with no father to stop them. "Charles, I hope you have not forgotten that it was your father's dearest wish to have a country estate, and become part of the landed gentry?" Charles nodded. Surely he had plenty of time to make that happen? "This will be good practice. And you should you like the county very much, you could even purchase Netherfield when the lease ends. It would be rather convenient for you, of course." George Darcy nodded at the boys, before moving out of their way. He couldn't help smiling as they continued their race down the hallway, only stopping when they reached the music hall.

"Georgie!" Charles said, as the little girl got up from the pianoforte. "I brought you some new sheet music from town, would you like to try them?" Will's twelve year old sister positively squealed with delight at her new music, and chose the duet, dragging Charles with her to play it.

"Georgie, I am not the best piano player," Charles warned, noticing Fitzwilliam sniggering in the corner.

"Charlie, I do not mind. I simply want to play it!" Begrudgingly, Charles sat down next to Georgie, and began to play the duet with her, rather terribly. This caused the little girl to grow angry at him.

"Charlie, you must swap places with my brother. If you don't want to play, you might have just said so!" Charles immediately switched with his best friend, who humoured his little sister by playing his entire part perfectly, even adding things in when he felt it appropriate. The beautiful sound of playing drew both Anne and George Darcy to the music room, to enjoy the sounds of their two children playing duets together; something which family often did. The Darcy's were all musical geniuses to Charles; how they were all so musically talented he would never know. Perhaps it was the Spanish roots?

* * *

"Will, Charles, the two of you must prepare to leave for Netherfield in three days." George Darcy told the two boys over their dinner. Both of them gulped.

"Three days?" Georgie exclaimed. How dare her father send her brother and his friend away in so little time!

"George, that hardly seems like enough time," Anne told her husband, placing her hand over his.

"Father, I had invited Julian and Marcus to spend some time here at Pemberley!" Fitzwilliam told his father. "They are arriving tomorrow!"

"Well then, Will, they will not be staying very long, will they?"

"Can we not have a week? You would not want to offend the cousin of the prince." He asked meekly, already knowing the answer.

"I do not care if you offend the prince himself. And neither do you, Will. You must learn some responsibility." George retorted.

His son only had one fault, he was simply too shy to drift away from his friends. Fitzwilliam Darcy had a small group of friends from Cambridge, and he revealed his true character only to these friends. Fitzwilliam Darcy was scared of people. At the multiple balls in town, his son would hide in a corner with Marcus, both hoping to escape the notice of everyone, whilst Charles and Julian helped keep the attention to both of them at bay. His son was far too comfortable with only having the liking and presence of his own friends. It was a fine arrangement for the moment, but his son would eventually have to outgrow it. "Will, Charles, there is an assembly in Meryton that you both shall attend. You will meet the local community, and befriend those who you feel would be good company." With this, he looked pointedly at his son, who was now evading his father's eyes with great skill. Charles, on the other hand, looked rather excited.

"But what about Julian and Marcus?" Fitzwilliam persisted. Anne gave her husband a look, and George Darcy relented.

"After you have been at Netherfield for a month, we shall come and see how the two of you are holding up. Then, you may find yourselves a hostess, which could be Charles' sister, and invite whoever you wish."

"Not Caroline." Fitzwilliam groaned.

"Might we have Georgie?" Charles asked.

"Of course, it would be perfect practice for her in the future!" Anne added excitedly, intercepting her husband's negative reply. Fitzwilliam gave his little sister a squeeze as she looked up at him happily.

"Georgie is far too young to be a hostess, Anne!"

"George, if Georgie is to be hostess, I shall send Mrs Reynolds to assist her." With this, both Fitzwilliam and Charles glanced at each other with full smiles. George Darcy rolled his eyes with good humour. His wife did enjoy spoiling Fitzwilliam. Would Fitzwilliam ever be able to run Pemberley one day?

* * *

Anne placed a kiss on each of her son's cheeks, firmly embracing him.

"Stay safe, Will. We will come and visit you very soon." Fitzwilliam smiled at his mother, kissing her on his cheek.

"I will look forward to it very much! And father, I promise to do you proud." He added with conviction, his voice turning serious as he hugged his father, who softened seeing his son's determined look.

"I know you will, Will. Good luck, and do not hesitate to send an express if you find yourself in any... scrapes. I can be in Hertfordshire in two days, should you need me." Fitzwilliam smiled at his father, before swinging his little sister up into his arms, and gently kissing her on the nose. She let out a giggle.

"Will, I shall miss you a lot!"

"And I you, Georgie. I promise to send you something from Hertfordshire, and you must promise to come soon."

"Of course, Will!" Fitzwilliam put his sister back on the ground and mounted Romeo, his favourite stallion. He nodded towards the carriages, and they started to roll away. He then turned to Charles.

"Shall we?" He asked.

"We shall!" Charles responded with a grin. He waved to his parents and little sister, Charles copying his actions, and then the two friends were off.

Fitzwilliam watched behind him as Pemberley grew further and further away, the forms of his family growing smaller and smaller. When he could no longer make out his little sister's waving, he stopped and lay his head against his horse's crest, now looking across the lake to a different view of Pemberley. He let out a sigh; he was loathe to leave his family, yet there was a particular excitement in going to run an estate with his best friend, without the occasionally overbearing presence of a loving father.

"Will, if I didn't live here with you half of the year, I am sure Pemberley should make me most envious of you!" Charles said, trying to pull his friend out of the uncharacteristic melancholy. Fitzwilliam smiled into Romeo's crest, stroking his cheek. Charles leaned over his own horse, and jabbed at his best friend, who let out a laugh, and poked him back. And as the two friends rode through the countryside in the October sun, laughing and recounting fond memories, they looked forward to this next stage of their lives with great anticipation. For their friendship was such that they knew that together, they could overcome any hurdle.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N - thanks to everyone who has reviewed!**

 **Englishlitlover - Yes, Darcy does sound very immature, however, it is to show how little responsibility he has ever had. You will see him mature throughout the next couple of chapters.**

 **Doris212 - As of yet, I have planned to keep Bingley and Darcy as friends.**

 **Dizzy Lizzy. 60 - I don't want to spoil anything... but Caroline will make an appearance**

 **Kerry Claire - Georgie is 12, sorry for the confusion!**

 **Tarlily - thank you for pointing that out; sometimes when I proofread I can end up skimming over things, so thank you!**

 **Deanna27 - Caroline and Louisa will feature but after a few chapters :)**

 **Guest (1st reviewer) - thanks for the ideas!**

 **And a huge thank you to everyone else who has reviewed as well!**

* * *

The carriage halted to a stop in front of Netherfield Park estate. Fitzwilliam had been looking at the house as the carriage had been driving up, and was anxious to examine the inside. He kicked his friend awake and jumped out the carriage. The footmen knew that Fitzwilliam Darcy never waited for someone to open the door for him, and simply stepped out of his way. He looked up at the house. It was much smaller than Pemberley, but it looked rather well situated. Of course, not as well as Pemberley, but perfectly reasonable for a holiday home.

"It looks rather appealing, does it not?" Charles said from beside his friend.

"I can certainly see why my father chose it. Shall we go back in?" Fitzwilliam responded. Charles smirked at his friend, leaping up the front steps. The servants that had come from Pemberley were rather accustomed to the somewhat childish behaviour of the young men, but the new ones that had been brought in for Netherfield simply stared at their new masters, wondering how the house would fare over the course of the Darcy's lease.

"I must see the library!" Fitzwilliam exclaimed, following the housekeeper into an entirely empty room, with dusty shelves. Fitzwilliam's face contorted; he hadn't expected such an abandoned library. The rest of the house was in perfect condition.

"I would like this library to be cleaned and filled with the books that I have brought by tomorrow. I shall shelve the books myself, as soon as it is clean." He told the housekeeper, who immediately made a mental note of his request. Of course, in some matters, the two friends were entirely opposite, a fact which Fitzwilliam was reminded of in Charles' next sentence.

"Will, hurry up! I must see the ballroom and dining room!" Fitzwilliam screwed his nose up, following his friend and new housekeeper out of what he knew was to be his favourite room of the house. Charles ran into the centre of the ballroom, mentally examining the size, and how many people he could fit inside.

"Will, we could host a ball! When we find a hostess, of course, but look at the space!" The Netherfield ballroom was smaller than that of Pemberley, but it was still larger than the one in Charles' townhouse. Fitzwilliam leant against the wall by the door, arms folded across his chest.

"Charles, I refuse to have a ball in my own home! How am I to escape?" Charles walked back to his friend and slapped his shoulder.

"You shan't escape, Fitz. We will find you a partner, one who you will like." The earnest smile on Charles' face caused Fitzwilliam's to split into a wide grin before both of them roared with laughter, both in full knowledge that Fitzwilliam Darcy never found anyone who he liked.

"Charles, you know that is utterly ridiculous!" Fitzwilliam said, still laughing. "The only partner I want is one who will discuss books or business, and I think I would have to travel further than the Americas to find a woman like that!

"Perhaps a male partner?" Bingley asked, still laughing at his best friend's ridiculous expectations.

"Charles, even you do not speak of books nor business in a ballroom!" Fitzwilliam said, as their new housekeeper looked at the two young men in shock. What was Mr Darcy thinking, sending these two children to run an estate without adult supervision? They maybe adults, but they certainly did not act as such.

* * *

"My dear Mr Bennet," said his lady to him one day, "have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?"

Mr Bennet replied that he had not, his other daughters all giggling at their mother. "But it is," returned she; "for Mrs Long has just been here, and she told me all about it." Mr Bennet made no answer.

"Do you not want to know who has taken it?" cried his wife impatiently.

"You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it." This was invitation enough for Mrs Bennet.

"Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken by a man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted with it, that he agreed with Mr Morris immediately; that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be in the house by the end of next week."

"What is his name?"

"Darcy. Mr Darcy."

"Is he married or single?"

"Married, of course! But perhaps he has children; he must have an heir! A single man of large fortune. What a fine thing for our girls!"

"How so? How can it affect them?" Mr Bennet teased.

"Mr Bennet," replied his wife, "how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his son's marrying one of them."

"Is that his design in settling here?"

"Design! Nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he may fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must visit him as soon as he comes."

"I see no occasion for that. You and the girls may go, or you may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better, for as you are as handsome as any of them, Mr Darcy, or perhaps his son, may like you the best of the party."

"My dear, you flatter me. I certainly have had my share of beauty, but I do not pretend to be anything extraordinary now. When a woman has five grown-up daughters, she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty."

"In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of."

"But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr Darcy when he comes into the neighbourhood."

"It is more than I engage for, I assure you."

"But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment it would be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to go, merely on that account, for in general, you know, they visit no newcomers. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for us to visit him if you do not."

"You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr Darcy will be very glad to see you, and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my hearty consent to his son marrying whichever he chooses of the girls; though I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy."

"I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better than the others, and I am sure she is not half so handsome as Jane, nor half so good-humoured as Lydia. But you are always giving her the preference."

"They have none of them much to recommend them," replied he; "they are all silly and ignorant like other girls, but Lizzy has something more of quickness than her sisters."

"Mr Bennet, how can you abuse your own children in such a way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion for my poor nerves." Mrs Bennet joked, smiling at her husband.

"You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these last twenty years at least."

"Ah, you do not know what I suffer."

"But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many wealthy men come into this neighbourhood, being either single or with sons."

"It will be no use to us if twenty such should come since you will not visit them."

"Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will visit them all. For now, however, I shall go and visit Mr Darcy." He told her, rising and gently pecking his wife's cheek.

* * *

Elizabeth looked onto Netherfield. Though she would never admit to it, she was rather looking forward to meeting the new occupants. For the prospect of a possible rich, young and handsome gentlemen would appeal to any young lady. Of course, she should return home soon to prepare for the assembly, but what harm could another chapter do? Lizzy slid down against the tree yet again, and opened her book once more. And then she heard music, a deep baritone voice singing Handel. Subconsciously, Lizzy closed her book to enjoy the music, for the male voice was performing a rather lovely rendition of Handel's 'Where're you walk'. However, Elizabeth Bennet did not notice that the music was coming nearer to hear, becoming louder until it continued at the same level. Lizzy sighed; how she wished to meet the singer, simply to compliment his lovely voice. She stood up and dusted off her skirts, starting to twirl around the tree back down the path to Longbourn.

But, resting on the other side of the tree she was sitting against was a man. She looked at the man, who had long since finished Handel and was now humming Greensleeves. But no, Lizzy was not looking at the man. She was gazing at the man, and his creased eyelids shut in the bright autumn sunlight, his angular face shape, brown windswept hair that seemed to be tinted auburn, and a clearly fine figure. Elizabeth Bennet had hardly seen such a beautiful sight in her life, for beautiful singers were not always beautiful people.

Fitzwilliam Darcy could feel a pair of eyes on him. At least he knew for sure that it was not Caroline Bingley. He figured he might stop singing; if Charles was watching him, he might never live it down. He lazily opened his eyes; after all, if Charles was watching him, the damage was already done. Expecting to see the flaming orange hair and grey eyes of his best friend, he was instead greeted by the sight of long brown hair, with eyes of almost the exact same shade. The vision was holding a book by Plato, a favourite of his. Since when did beautiful ladies read Plato? It was an interesting concept.

"You are not Charles." Fitzwilliam pointed out, feeling completely ridiculous once the words left his mouth. The girl in front of him giggled.

"No, I think not." She gave small curtsey. "I am sorry to disturb your solitude."

"Ahh, but it was not solitude if you have been here a long while." He told her, teasing. Lizzy watched the man with pure admiration in her eyes; the man was teasing her! He stood up before her and bowed.

"Sir, you have a wonderful voice," Lizzy told him, a slight rosiness spreading across her cheeks. Fitzwilliam blushed; the only person who had told him that before was his mother.

"I am Master Fitzwilliam Darcy. Might I have the pleasure of discovering your name?"

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet, sir. Of Longbourn." Elizabeth's thoughts were rushing through her head. So this was the infamous Mr Darcy? A young man with a lovely voice? Although she would own that he was the most handsome man she had even laid her eyes on.

"It is, of course, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Bennet. Might Longbourn be the next estate?"

"Yes, Mr Darcy. Longbourn is the estate nearest to Netherfield Park, hence my presence here."

"Of course, Miss Bennet. Should I be apologising for trespassing upon Longbourn land?"

"No, sir, it is I who should be apologising; this is, in fact, Netherfield land. I often miss the boundary whilst surveying the Longbourn land. It shall not happen again."

"No, you are welcome on Netherfield land, should you wish to walk. I myself often ramble too far." Lizzy smiled at him, and he grinned back. "Do you often survey the land?" Lizzy nodded, looking at her feet. What would he think of her? But he said nothing, and inside his thoughts were reeling. "I suppose I shall be seeing much of you then, around Hertfordshire?" If I ever go out, that is, Darcy told himself.

"Of course, Mr Darcy." She said, leaving him with a small curtesy. Of course, Mr Darcy knew from that moment that he would be sitting by the tree on the border of the estate every single day, waiting for some pleasurable conversation that can only come from good company.


End file.
